Paper Petals
by Boogum
Summary: One night. One moment of weakness. That was all it took. Now Zuko and Katara must struggle to figure out their new life together as husband and wife in a world where politics takes precedence over love; where there was no time for courtship, no sweet moments. Nothing but a bitter fumble in the dark they both would prefer to forget and an unborn child they cannot ignore.
1. Prologue

This fic is going to be an expanded version of 'Atonement', taken from the _Where the Ocean and Sky Collide_ collection. The prologue is the one and only M-rated chapter you're going to get, so for those hoping for a Zutara smut fic, I'm afraid you'd best look elsewhere. Credit for the cover image goes to Jesterry, who did that wonderful piece for me as a Secret Santa gift last year. :)

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><p><span><strong>Prologue<strong>

It had been almost three weeks since Zuko had first joined the Avatar's group at the Western Air Temple. Katara would not speak to him unless it was to make a spiteful comment; she did not look at him unless it was to glare, and she certainly would not sit near him or touch him if she could help it. He had might as well have been a vagrant infested with an infectious, incurable disease for the way she treated him, and it bothered him more than he cared to admit. Somehow, he had to make things better between them. He had to make amends.

But Katara was the queen of grudges. If she didn't want to forgive him, she simply wouldn't listen. A stone wall would be more forthcoming than her, which made earning a place in her good books impossible. It was no surprise that he got frustrated. He had already thrown his dignity to the winds; he had grovelled and begged and let her say what she wanted to him, and now he was just tired of it all. The stupid girl was driving him crazy, and he wanted answers. He just wanted to know why she wouldn't give him a chance to prove that he had changed.

So, after another torturous day of coldness and smug (sometimes hateful) looks from the waterbender, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He cornered her against the mural wall in the temple later that night, demanding to know what the hell her problem was. Everyone else had accepted him into the group, so why couldn't she? Why was it so difficult for her to see that he was on her side?

"Just what are you expecting from me?" he growled, trapping her within the cage of his arms as he glared down at this girl who had made his life so difficult. "Spirits know I've tried to apologise for my past mistakes, but it seems like nothing I do is good enough for you. You don't even want to listen."

She held her chin high as she met his gaze, but for all her boldness her breathing sounded fragmented, almost shaky. He was too angry to notice the danger signs; too hurt to see the way her pupils dilated at his proximity, swallowing the blue in a pool of black, or how her gaze kept flickering to his mouth. He just wanted his answers, which was why he leaned in even closer so that their faces were inches apart.

"What is it that you want?" he gritted out, staring intensely into her ocean-blue eyes. "Name it and I'll do it; I'll do whatever it takes to get it into that stubborn head of yours that I've changed, but I'll be damned if I—"

Her fingers suddenly clutched at his tunic, tugging his face down so that his lips crashed against hers. Zuko was so surprised that for a moment he just stood there frozen, but then her arms curled around his neck, and he could feel the tip of her tongue sliding along the seam of his lips, and it was as if fire burst to life inside him. He could move again, but only to open his mouth to hers, giving her the entrance she so desired, and allowing him to taste her with each velvety caress, each blood-tingling kiss. His hands found purchase on slender hips, pulling her closer and letting him feel every soft curve, every rapid beat of her heart. She pressed herself even harder against him in response, and they both sighed into the kiss as their bodies brushed against each other in all the right places.

Katara somehow managed to undo the ties of his tunic, and then she was touching his bare chest, tracing the defined ridges and planes, and making his skin burn with every touch. Little whispers of warning echoed in his mind like bells, but it was so hard to stay focussed. His mind was blurred by the pounding rhythm of his heart, by the fire coiling and spreading through his veins like liquid flames. He couldn't think; he could only act, guided by age-old instincts that had him gripping her thighs as he lifted her off the ground, pressing her back against the wall in a desperate need to feel more of that friction between them; that had him placing hot, open-mouthed kisses on the fluttery pulse of her neck, moving down and down to the curve of her breasts. She arched into him with a half-choked moan, and he closed his eyes, biting down on his lip to hold back a groan of his own as their hips met with the motion.

More warning bells echoed in his mind, telling him that he was in way over his head and had no idea what he was doing. And it was true; he really didn't, but even though his mind was a tangled web of confused thoughts, his body still seemed to instinctively know what to do—what would make his blood spark with renewed fire and his breath come a little faster; what would make her gasp in pleasure and arch into him again and again, until it just didn't seem right that there should be so much cloth getting in the way of their skin touching. He wanted to feel her body slide against his like naked silk, to taste and explore every inch of her. He couldn't help but sigh in relief when they finally joined as one; the friction was so much better now, sending white-hot pleasure singing through his blood, like the purest of fire. But it was more than that as well. Being with her was like seeing the world in colour for the first time. Everything was just so tangible, so clear, so exquisitely intense.

"Zuko."

Her voice was hoarse, almost pleading, but he only gripped her tighter, lips brushing hers in desperate kisses that quickly turned into ragged breaths. He knew that her cries were mixed with pain, but she didn't ask him to stop; instead, she matched his rhythm with a helpless sort of desperation; it was as if they were both caught in a trance and could do no more than move in time to the rapid tattoo of their hearts, the heady pulse of their blood. Zuko could barely contain himself. The fire was all through him now, building and building until he was seeing flashes of stars. Until he could feel something snap inside him, like a string plucked too tight.

"Ka-Katara—"

He couldn't get the rest of the words out. The fire had reached its final crescendo, and there was nothing either of them could do but ride out the storm, letting the inferno wash over them and bring them both to climax. When it was over, they were both panting and slumped on the ground. Zuko's limbs felt like jelly and they were both sweating, skin sliding against skin in sticky dampness as he shifted to hold himself up on his elbows, looking down into her eyes. The fog was beginning to clear in his mind—in both their minds—and what he saw in her ocean-blue irises had his heart clenching in a steel trap of unease. She looked scared, almost horrified, as if she couldn't believe what she had just done.

"I—" he began, licking his lips.

Katara shoved him off her before he could finish his sentence, and she hissed in pain when he slid out of her with the motion. She snatched up her clothes from the ground and then gave him a wild-eyed look as she stood back to her full height, like an animal about to bolt. In that moment he could see her shame, her lust, her naked fear.

"Don't you dare tell anyone about this," she said in a shaky voice, trying to appear intimidating but only succeeding in looking vulnerable and small. "I'll know if you do, and I'll—I'll—" she compressed her lips together, trying to get a hold of herself. It was obvious she was close to tears.

Zuko reached out for her. "Katara—"

"Don't!" she cried, flinching away from his hands. "Just don't—don't touch me."

He paused, not quite able to hide the flicker of hurt in his eyes. "Fine," he said flatly, "but before you start turning me into the monster who stole your virginity, just remember that you were the one who kissed me first."

She stared at him through overly bright eyes, but he just turned the other way. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing that she had upset him. He felt used and dirty, like some plaything to be enjoyed while the moment lasted and then tossed aside when reality came knocking again. It was humiliating, wounding, and a part of him wanted to shout at this girl; to demand who the hell she thought she was that she could just string him along like this, playing hot and cold with his emotions as if it were nothing.

"Just go away," he muttered when she remained silent. "You obviously want to pretend that nothing happened, so forget it. Leave. I won't tell a soul."

She didn't move.

Zuko repressed a sigh and turned back to look at her. "What?" he snapped. "Why are you still here? What is it that you want from me?"

It was an echo of his earlier words—something they both recognised as her eyes flickered to his in a skittish glance—but this time there was no impulsive kiss, no inferno of fire. She just stared down at her feet, clutching her clothes to her chest to hide her naked body.

"I don't know," she said softly. "I don't know what I want."

He let out a small breath, surprised by her honesty. She didn't wait for his response and quickly made her escape, leaving him alone in the mural room. Zuko didn't bother to follow her; instead, he placed his head in his hands with a sigh and closed his eyes, feeling as if all of the energy had suddenly been drained out of him. There was no comprehending what had happened between them. Everything had spiralled out of his control so quickly, and now he just felt so confused, so torn between feelings of regret and desire and shame.

"Stupid," he muttered. "So stupid."

He should have never kissed her back. He should have never allowed himself to be caught up in the moment, but it was too late to reconsider his actions now. The damage had already been done; he'd had sex with the waterbender; he had atoned for his mistakes with his body, letting her take from him the last of his innocence, even as he had snatched away her own. There was no saying what tomorrow would bring—whether she would still hate him or not, but he did know one thing. He didn't want any part of it. If Zuko were to be completely honest, he was scared.

Scared of facing her brother. Scared of facing her friends. Scared of facing anyone.

Because there would be consequences. It was inevitable. The two of them could take their shameful secret with them to the grave and speak of it to no one, but he knew in his own heart that he would never be able to forget. Not quite. So long as Katara was around, her presence would always be there to remind him of their brief, unhappy union, like a bitter taste in his mouth that he couldn't erase. In that, Zuko looked forward to the day they could part ways.

Unfortunately, it would be four weeks later before he would realise the true impact of his naked fumble in the dark. Four weeks before he would realise there could be no simple parting of ways. After all, there was only one reason why Toph would pucker her brow and demand to know why there were two sets of heartbeats coming from the waterbender. Sokka joked about faulty feet sensing, but Zuko knew the truth from the moment he saw the blood drain from Katara's cheeks and the way she placed her hand over her abdomen, as if to cradle something inside.

Two heartbeats. One night. One moment of weakness. That was all it had taken, and he knew it was going to change everything.


	2. Caught in a Crisis

**Caught in a Crisis**

Katara was pregnant. It was a fact that she was still struggling to comprehend. Her stomach was flat now, but in less than nine months she would be holding a squalling baby in her arms. Her baby. There would be pain, discomfort, but worst of all there would be judgement. She was only fourteen. She wasn't married, and the father—

Her eyes flickered to where Zuko was training with Aang. Fire flashed around the two boys in orange bursts, hot and dangerous. Without intending, she found herself staring at the prince: at his lean body, so lithe and graceful, shifting into each stance like a beautifully crafted blade; at the shaggy mop of black hair that veiled his eyes and obscured the scar that twisted the left side of his features. It wasn't difficult to see why she had succumbed to her attraction. Zuko had been so close that night. Too close. All that passion and intensity he carried within him had burned in his eyes, his very presence, like a brilliant spark of light. She had been nothing more than a moth hovering in front of a flame, yearning to get closer.

So she had. And she regretted it bitterly.

"There you are."

Katara turned to see Suki take a seat next to her on the bench. The warrior was clutching a platter of fruit.

"I bring tasty offerings," Suki declared with a grin, holding up the dish.

Katara forced a smile. "Thanks, but I'm not hun—"

"Uh-uh, I don't want to hear any excuses," Suki interrupted. "You're eating for two now, so you need to take care of your body." She shoved a mango at the waterbender. "That includes eating."

Katara just sighed and bit into the fruit. She was grateful for Suki's support (out of everyone, Suki had been the most genuine in her acceptance of the situation), but sometimes she wished the Kyoshi warrior would just lay off with all the chirpy pregnant talk. Hearing about it all the time just made Katara even more terrified and unhappy—even if an unbiased part of her knew that she would be saying the same things had it been someone else in her situation.

"Aang, focus! How do you expect to kill the Fire Lord if you can't even concentrate during practice?"

That was Zuko. Katara whipped around at the sound of his voice, noting how the two boys where standing opposite each other and having what looked like a heated conversation. Aang was waving his arms in jerky, agitated motions, like blades slashing through the air; Zuko had his arms folded across his chest, obviously trying to keep his temper in check.

"I've had enough!" Aang suddenly shouted, turning away from the prince. "I'm taking a break!"

Zuko reached out as if to stop the younger boy, but then something shifted in his expression and he just let his arm drop back to his side. Aang opened his glider with a snap and then took off into the air, floating far, far away until he was just a speck of orange against the sky. Katara looked back at Zuko. She didn't need to be a mind reader to know why he had let Aang go without a fight. It was the reason Aang always looked at her with those pained little glances; the reason she felt a stabbing twist in her heart right now, as if an invisible hand had seized the organ and was slowly crushing it to a pulp.

Guilt.

She wore it like a second skin, and every time she met those wounded grey eyes, she would remember.

"_Everything is going to be different after today, isn't it?  
><em>

"_Yes, it is.  
><em>

"_What if ... what if I don't come back?  
><em>

"_Aang, don't say that. Of course you'll—"_

Katara touched a finger to her lips, tracing the imprinted memory of Aang's mouth on hers. She knew the kiss had been a statement; it was his way of saying that he wanted them to be together when the war was over. But now Katara was pregnant with Zuko's child, and everything was just so mixed up. Whatever future Aang had imagined with her didn't exist anymore; it was gone the moment she had impulsively kissed Zuko in the mural room; gone the moment she had stopped dreaming of grey irises and had instead lost herself in fire-tinted gold.

As if on cue, she found herself catching Zuko's gaze, who was still standing where Aang had left him. Her breath hitched and, for a moment, they just stared at each other from across the courtyard. So many words unspoken, so many emotions unexpressed. It was ridiculous how little they communicated with each other, let alone _knew_ each other, yet he was going to be the father of her child.

Suki glanced from one to the other. "Um, so I think I'll go see if anyone else wants some fruit, cause, uh…" She trailed off, casting one meaningful look at Katara before she stood and left with the platter of food.

Now it was just Katara and Zuko in the courtyard. This wasn't good. He took a step towards Katara and then hesitated as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to approach her or leave. In her mind, she chanted for him to go away, go away, go away! They hadn't been alone since—well, since that night back at the Western Air Temple. Just the thought of talking to him made her heart thump against her ribs and her fingers curl. So it was no surprise that she stood up to leave as soon as he made up his mind and started walking towards her.

"Wait," he pleaded, taking hold of her wrist.

Katara wrenched her hand back. "Don't touch me!" she hissed.

Zuko released her as if burned. She tried not to feel guilty for the wounded look that flashed in his eyes. Just like that night.

"Look," he began, visibly restraining his instinct to snap back at her, "I think it's time we talk. You know we just can't keep avoiding each other like this."

Katara bit her lip and averted her gaze.

Zuko exhaled a loud breath. "I don't know what else to say. I know you hate me and probably wish me out of your life, but—"

"No."

He paused. "No?"

"No," Katara repeated, turning to meet his gaze. "I'll admit there are times when I can't stand to be around you, but I—" she swallowed, hardly daring to believe what she was about to say "—but I don't hate you." A shrug. "I don't think I can anymore."

He blinked. "Oh."

Katara wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to hold her body together. "I've been blaming you for so long. For the death of my mum, for Aang getting hurt—for every bad thing that has happened. I even blamed you for—for—"

"For that night?" he said softly.

She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut as tears prickled and gathered at the corner of her lashes. "I didn't want to admit that you might have really changed. It was so much easier to blame you for all the pain I felt; to make you out to be a villain."

"What changed?"

A short laugh, more of a hiccup. "I don't know. I guess I just finally opened my eyes and saw the truth. You helped Sokka rescue my dad from the Boiling Rock prison. You've been teaching Aang firebending so he can defeat the Fire Lord, your own father. You never once retaliated when I was being horrible to you all those times, and when you did confront me, I just—" she glanced away, taking in a shuddering breath.

There was a moment of silence as he waited for her to finish. Katara felt a few tears slip loose.

"You were right, Zuko," she admitted in a pained voice. "I was the one who kissed you that night. I got us into this mess, and I've hated myself for it ever since." Her eyes met his, red-rimmed and filled with self-loathing. "So no, it's not you I hate; it's me. It's all me."

He stepped closer. "Katara—"

She recoiled from his touch. "Don't."

Zuko paused, letting his hand drop back to his side.

"I'm sorry," Katara said, turning away. "I just—I just need to be alone."

"Running away won't change anything."

She hesitated, chewing on her lip as she kept her back to him. She could stop and face him—try to clear the air between them and figure out what they were going to do with this child growing inside her, but it was just too much. She was terrified. She didn't want this. She didn't want _him_.

"You think this is any easier for me?" he demanded when she carried on walking. "You think I really wanted to make peace with you after you—" he struggled to get the words out "—you used me and humiliated me?"

Katara froze. There was a hard lump in her throat, building and building until she could hardly swallow.

"I hate this just as much as you do, Katara," Zuko continued bitterly. "I wish I had never gone near you that night, but that still won't change the fact that you're pregnant with my child. What's done is done. Nothing can change that."

She closed her eyes, even as tears rolled down her cheeks. "I know."

"Then why—"

"Because I'm scared!" She spun around to face him, chest heaving. "I'm scared, Zuko! I'm only fourteen. I don't want to be a mother. I don't want to have a child. I just want to be a girl and have fun, and not—not—"

Her voice broke on a sob and she scrubbed the back of her hand across her eyes, wiping away her tears. Zuko shifted on his feet, looking torn and uncertain, as if he wanted to comfort her but couldn't quite bring himself to get closer either. Somehow, that just made her feel worse.

Katara averted her face. "Please, just go. I don't—I don't want to be around you right now."

Zuko stared at her for a long moment. The silent was tense, filled with unspoken words that she knew probably needed to be said, but then he just sighed. She heard his footsteps retreat, though she didn't dare look up to watch him depart. Instead, she hugged her arms tight around herself and slowly headed off in the other direction. It was an hour later when Sokka found her alone and crying on the beach. He wordlessly pulled her into his arms and held her close, which only made her cry even more.

"Shh," Sokka whispered, rubbing soothing circles on her back. "It's okay. It's okay, Katara."

"It's not okay!" she sobbed, burying her face into her brother's chest. "I've ruined everything! Aang hardly talks to me, I don't even know what I'm doing anymore, and I just—I just—" She squeezed her eyes shut and dug her fingers into his tunic, trembling and taking great, shuddering gasps. "I just want to go home, Sokka. I want Gran-Gran."

Sokka's hands froze. Very gently, he held her back so she could meet his eyes. "Maybe you can."

She sniffed. "What?"

"Go home, I mean. Maybe you can. We've got Appa. We could take you there."

For a second her heart bubbled with hope. She could go home! She could get away from Zuko and Aang, and everything else that was upsetting her. But then reality came crashing back down and she just shook her head.

"The comet is only three days away," she said, disengaging from his hold and facing the other way. "You heard what Zuko said. The Fire Lord is going to torch the whole Earth Kingdom unless we stop him. There isn't time to make side trips. Besides, Aang is going to need all the help he can get."

Sokka frowned. "You aren't actually planning on fighting, are you?"

Katara hugged her knees to her chest. "What choice do I have? I'm a master waterbender. I have healing skills, and you know just as well as I do that winning this war is the only thing we should be focusing on right now. Besides, it's only been a month. I should be fine so long as I don't do anything too drastic."

His brow furrowed. "I don't like this."

"I don't either, but there isn't anything we can do." She rested her chin on her knees, gazing out at the sea with a distant expression as if she were seeing far beyond the waves and sky. "I want to go home. I want to stop worrying about everything and just have Gran-Gran take care of me, but we're in the middle of a war." She sighed and looked back at her brother, her bottom lip trembling slightly. "It's just like Gran-Gran used to say: I've made my bed, and now I have to lie in it."

Sokka placed an arm around her, pulling her into a one-armed hug. "It's gonna be alright, Katara. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. We'll get through this somehow."

She wiped the tears from her cheeks and snuggled closer to him, and together they sat watching the sky turn from burning orange to all the different shades of night. In that moment, as she sat warmed by her brother's embrace, Katara almost believed that everything was going to be okay. Aang would forgive her, they would win the war, and whatever impact her unborn child had on her future wouldn't be so bad.

The next morning, however, she realised how foolish she had been to dare to hope for even a small moment of peace. Aang had left. It was a day till the comet, and he had just left. No word, no explanation; he had just gone. Katara and the others had spent hours looking for him, but all they had found were footprints that led to the water but didn't return again. Even Momo was missing.

"We have a real problem here," Zuko said grimly. "Aang is nowhere to be found and the comet is only two days away."

Katara glanced at the older boy. She hated to admit it, but if anyone was going to come up with a plan to find Aang, it would be Zuko (especially since her brother was too busy trying to climb inside Appa's mouth, who he believed had eaten Momo). "What should we do?" 

Zuko stood up from where he had been examining the footprints. "I don't know." He frowned when he realised everyone was staring at him. "Why are you all looking at me like that?" 

"Well, you are kind of the expert on tracking Aang," Katara said with a shrug. 

"Yeah," Toph agreed, even as Sokka slid out of Appa's mouth and collapsed on the ground in a pool of bison drool. "If anyone's got experience hunting the Avatar, it's you."

Zuko stared at the ocean for a long moment and a few creases formed on his brow. Everyone waited expectantly. "Alright," he said, turning back to face them. "I think I might have an idea."

"Great!" Sokka said, rubbing his hands together. "What's the plan?"

Zuko scrunched his noise at the saliva-covered boy. It was a cute little gesture, which Katara would have found amusing had the situation not been so dire and her own relationship with the prince not been so complicated.

"You are going to clean yourself up," Zuko said bluntly. "The rest of us will gather supplies. Make sure you pack light. We need to travel fast if we want to find Aang before the comet arrives."

No one argued. They understood how important it was to find Aang as quickly as possible, so in no time at all they were sitting aboard Appa and flying towards the Earth Kingdom—something Sokka found confusing. When he said as much, Zuko explained that it would all make sense once they got there. Katara figured he must have been getting into the cactus juice, because their destination turned out to be a seedy tavern that looked like the kind of place only pirates and other vagabonds would call home.

"Why did you bring us here?" she asked, glancing warily at the rough-looking men gathered around the tables, all drinking and gambling.

Zuko pointed to a woman with long black hair, who was holding a drink in one hand while taking down a man twice her size at the same time. She tossed her cup into the air so she could hurl her opponent over a shoulder, sending him flying into a table, and then caught the drink before even a drop could spill.

"June," he said, as if that explained everything.

Katara just stared. It was the woman who had helped Zuko track her down all those months ago using the scent on her necklace. Somehow, she just knew that this was not going to be a fun reunion. Sokka and Suki seemed to be of the same mind, but Toph was lapping up the fight like a kid at a candy stall.

"I don't know who she is, but I like her," Toph declared, giving her own personal stamp of approval.

Katara resisted the urge to slap her palm against her forehead. Yes, this was definitely not going to be a fun reunion.


End file.
